Tragedy Strikes
by HAPPY KID 21
Summary: It's the 71st Annual Hunger Games, and you have to act as the capital citizen to pick who wins! There's many tributes to choose from, and the more you vote on a poll, or review for a certain character the longer they live, and more gifts they receive! Read and Vote or Review for your favorites. Before a massive Tragedy Strikes them in the Arena! T for HG violence. Pre-Katniss guys.
1. The Reapings

**A/N: Hey Guys! Thanks for reading my first story like this! Ahhhh ASDFJKL, I'm so excited! I know there are a bunch of errors, but I was just to excited to share this with you! This is one of those stories where you're input matters, leave reviews, or take part in my poll about you're favorite character's, arena ideas, or whatever else I may ask, and it'll be more likely that they will win! COOKIES (::)(::)(::)(::)**

District 7 Male (Ash Lomax): Age: (16) Reaping day:

I take one last deep breath before the film starts.. "War terrible war!" It seemed to echo as I stood arms waiting, my chin held high to strain and see the stage over the fifty millionth worried teen.

I looked just to my left to see my brothers standing in the 18+ section. Tall, handsome, and built, off course they were all married off, some probably with kids of their own by now. I wouldn't really know actually, kids in 7 rarely get to know there whole family when there parents keep popping out kids purely for more tesserae. My only younger sibling Wren, was so tiny I could barely see her on my brother's shoulders. At 7 years old she knew what was going on today, but thank god she rarely spoke out about it. She used to - but ever since we lost Cliff in a Hunger Games when she was barely 4, things changed.

Her wide eye bounced from the screen to my face, and back again. I let out a puff of air that nipped at my face, our reapings were held at 5:30 in the morning so the capital wouldn't endure any power shortages, or luxury wooden hunger games themed items.

"As usual Ladies first of course," our mentor buzzed giggling happily as she fished around in the reaping bowels. Her foot high, bubble like heels made her tottered, as she brushed off her bubble like see through coat before reading.

"Hazel Horan," She called. I didn't know Hazel Horan, but I knew who ever she was, she wasn't going to make it. She practically went up there in tears, grasping nervously at her torso. No older than late 15, or early 16s she weeped.

"This one could bring great honor!" The escort cawed pecking her cheek.

"And now for the male!" I could feel my side of the barricade tense. Not me, not me, not-

"Ash Lomax," She called and I froze. That's me, that was my name. I tense my shoulders, trying to not look back as I heard Wren squeak.  
"Let's give a round of applause to this years tributes," The bubble woman cheered, as mild clapping erupted and we were taken into separate rooms.

I sat on a plushy blue couch waiting for my family to come in. Waiting, for anyone to come in really. 10 minutes passed, 13, 16, 20. No one. I sighed scratching at my brow. I was good looking enough, I mean I probably was the least scared up in my year at school. I growled getting up pacing, I was built from chopping down trees, but no where near a career in size, but enough not to be completely overlooked.

Finally I hear a knock at my door, figuring it was time to board the train I started making my way over only to be hit with Wren flying at me.

"No. No. No. No. No. No!" She screamed hysterically latching onto my legs.

"Cliff went and didn't come back! They never ever come back! People die!" She moaned into my legs burying her excessive brown curls into my thighs.

"Ash you gotta come back! They all left me, Mom, and Dad-" She paused her voice cracking, "Don't like me, Y-you-" She sniffed. Dad pretty much saw kids 11-18 as tesserae banks, and 18+ as money banks to 'loan' from. Mom cared enough to feed us, tuck us in, and all that, but she was distant. With our names in there for that much tesserae, enough for Dad to bargain with, and eat- we were 3 times as likely to be picked if not more.

"Come on Wren- Mom loves you," I promised picking her underweight form up and placed her in my lap. It's not that 7 needed it as much as 10, 11, or 12, but extra tesserae will still always be in high demand at under the table meetings, and side business scams.

"Besides we have Johanna Mason now, she can help me win," I sighed into her curls as she glared up at me.

"Fine. Henna want's you home to you know," She muttered into my chest giggling a little bit. Henna was my age, she and I have been best friends since we were sectioned the same part of the logging in assignment day when we were no older then Wren. Henna was stronger the most boys my age, and you know a girl.. So that being said, she was fairly popular, while I- was not. Wren suddenly had her arms in a loose choke hold.

"I think she likes you," She whispered quietly, and I shook my head.

"Thanks for the tip off Wren," I winked kissing her cheek, and holding onto her for dear life. This may be our last time talking, and if she wanted to spend it on my non-existent, fairy tale love life she could.

Just as the door creaks open I whisper, "I love you." She shakes her tiny head, "Not as much as I love you," She starts to sniffle and a peace keeper comes in.

"Time to go," he growls picking her up, dragging her out. "Noooooooo," she whines as I look away. She didn't need to see me like this, worried, broken, no one should. I-

"Next, you have 5 minutes," The gruff voice shoves in a figure a few inches shorter then me. A small smile has lighten up her face, her eyes a bit red rimmed as she walked over.

"You've done it now Ash," Henna laughs, but I can hear the thickness in her voice. Her usually tied back hair was loose and frizzy like she ran her fingers over it in worry a few too many times. Henna punches me in the shoulder, but immediately changes her mind and wraps her arms around my neck, in a similar way to Wren.

"Look Johanna can help you, she's seen us around town before she won. Just prove you're worth it... Like me and Wren know you are okay?" She loosens her grip blushing and side stepping to look me in the eyes.

"Give it your best shot axe men," She jokes.

"Only if you root me on, Muscles," I wink, and she sighs.  
"Just.. try," She sighs, and as the door swings open once again, I feel her lips brush my cheek.

"Try," She calls as a peacekeeper tugs her out.

"That's the last of em', time to get out," The man hissed at me, dragging me out.

The train shoves off and I look outside one last time, at the dwindlings pines, and oaks of home. "I'm gonna miss the forest," Hazel mutters walking up next to me.

"I'm not," I grumble, because it's the truth the forest held nothing for me, it was all in the people I've spent time with there.

District 4 Female: (Aril Newell) (*said air- le) Age: (12) Reaping Day:

I was still half asleep by the time I was set in front of the mirror, my hair tied in tiny pink ribbon, left from my sister's first few reapings.

"You look adorable Aril," My sister whispers tightening the baby pastel pink bows.

"Thanks," I mutter looking down, my hands clasped tightly together to keep from shaking.

"I was excited too, don't worry. Just think they might show you on TV, for the whole capital! I mean I know it's too late to do the little bits of training we have here, but you can attend combat seminars if you're shown on TV," Ambra gushes. At 17 it's going to be her last reaping this year. Technically in District 4 we aren't careers 'cause we don't have full time training, but only school hours, during the school year. Though Ambra trained since she was 6, and would volunteer this year.

Most years we have at least 1 volunteer, but the thing is it's seen as weak to volunteer for a classmate you deem as worthy, a friend, or a family member, so some years we're stuck being "honorable" and someone who should not go into the games does. And probably more often than not, you're a friend with the person picked anyway, so you wouldn't dare go up then. I stiffen, as she looks over her already perfect silk gown.

Mine was small and went to the floor, tight at the top, as it puffed out at the waast giving it the most 'classic, and vintage' look. It was all a grey color after fading from it's orignal light black from Ambra's reaping, and my Mom's before that. It actually had a matching baby pink ribbon around it's waste. Simple, and classic.

"It's time," My Mom smiled at us. I could see how proud she was, but behind it I could see how pale she was, how scared for Ambra. My Dad got up Stiffly before patting my head awkwardly, and smirking out at the crowd of people. Suddenly everything blurred around, and before I know it I was shoved up to the 12 year olds, and watching a video on our nations history.

Most families don't need tesserae with less than 5 people in them, but if you do, you get it in secret at night. Me, and Ambra have both gotten it, her once every 4 months. You were allowed to monthly, but Mom thought to be too extreme. So I have my name in there 4 times as of now. Just four, only four, I chanted in my head.

"Ladies bowl first," Our escort Christin chirped and snagged a paper. I whipped my head around to see Ambra. Tall and proud she stood waiting to try and bring us as something as silly as honor.

She coughed and called a name, my ears full of cotton as I waited my sister to volunteer, but she never did. Her jaw locking as she turned to glare at me, a mixture between bitterness, and pity.

"I said Aril Newell," She smiled as everyone turned to me. My eyes fly to the size of saucers as I climbed up the steps. How Ironic I got all pretty 'in case' I was seen in passing, now I was the star. "Finally, a bit lost dear," She joked making the crowd chuckle. No one liked it when a 12 year old went in, but in an almost career district... I think they'd understand Ambra dishonoring to volunteer for me.

"Any volunteers," Christin cooed, "No," She gasped obviously hoping I wasn't it. I locked eyes with my Ambra, and they said it all. I'm sorry, but you already stole my one form of honor, I will not do another act for you.

"Fine. For the boys-" she finished the ceremony quickly, my ears still filled with cotton, my knees weak from worry, my eyes red rimmed from the tears i obviously blinked back. "My baby girl," My Mom clawed at the door running in, and scooping me up.

"She was supposed to come back, you were never to have gone in," My Mom moaned hugging me. "Finnick was the youngest to win at 14! 14!" She growled as my father sat in the corner looking somber.

"Don't- she needs focus, she will win and come back," my Dad growled with such timid confidence, that I wanted to believe him too.

"Oh. of course, what was I thinking..." My Mom righted herself still clutching at my hand, like I was about to become a ghost. Maybe I was? Who knew what was after death.

"Please honey, don't wimp out. Stay strong for us, and your sister! She really wanted her chance," My Mom warned collecting my other hand.

"Of course," I nod

"And make them like you, it'll help in the arena. Like water hazards for others, and not you. Cause you can swim well," He explained his logics, hugging me and Mom in a group hug right as peacekeepers marched them out.

Ambra slowly walked in next, her perfectly braided hair still in tack as she sat carefully on the edge of the couch. Even angry she was beautiful, of course all training tributes had to be. She coldly turned to me, and as she looked her eyes softened.

Picking me up, she sighed, "You didn't want this anymore then I did." I nodded weakly, and curled into her. I couldn't say how much I didn't want to go, she'd never speak to me again. She wanted our family to have honor, not to be disgraced.

"Be good, take everything in the capital. Remember what I said when talked about my training at home," she warned, stroking my hair softly.

The peace keepers called for her and she winked at me, "We'll be rooting for you," She promised and with that it seemed as though Ambra decided to walk out of my new life.

I boarded my train looking out the window, kids from around the nation would have already left, would be arriving shortly, as I sat in my chair fiddling with my ribbon. The tall 17 year old boy from our district glared out the window, the one who was supposed to volunteer, did. A sneer on his face as he spun around, and looked at me.

"Well you won't be much help at all," He grumbled and walked turned to look out the window again, yet another person writing me off.

District 10 Male: (Castor Tice) Age: (15) Reaping Day:

"District 10 where they'll starve you, until you want to work to ignore the pains," I mutter bitterly slipping on my only pair of shoes that weren't boots. Running a farm wasn't dress shoe business. I sighed my messy hair surely wouldn't go flat, no matter how many times I soaked it. My black hair stuck up in some many floppy directions that if it went flat I wouldn't be surprised if it could cover my brown eyes. My Dad scanned me up and down, before shaking his head at me. He was a man of few words, so I grew up in the scilients.

It was just me and him growing up, My Mom died of a sickness that seemed to be plaguing all the outlying districts taking my baby brother with her. My Dad handled it as best as he could, but Mom was always the one to get him to laugh, to talk, and when she was gone- Well let's just say from then on you could hear a pin drop.

"Time," He gruffly spit out, getting up, towering over me. My Dad works at the largest farming district 10, doing all the heavy lifting, making him muscular, as if his tall frame needed it. I on the other hand, did the small needed jobs, that no one else wanted to do, in one of the smaller neighboring farms near the school. I was actually the only hand besides the farmers kids.

I nod joining the other boys my age in time for the reaping. "Castor, there you are," Griffin my best friend pokes me from behind. It probably was pretty hard to spot me, my tanned skin, and dark hair let me blend right in with the masses of district 10.

"The least they could go was make the peacekeepers do our jobs on the farm," Griffin grumbles. "Now I got to put up with everyones nervous crap, and work," He rants and I roll my eyes.

"Talk like that, and they'll put your name in there extra times for being rebellious," I snort, and he laughs.

"But then the ladies would miss all this," He gestures to his body and I snort. You can count Griffin to be confident in his non existant extreme looks. He wasn't ugly, but neither of us we're the man candy in our grade.

"I mean if I went in the whole city would be in a uprising, is it possible to even live a day without looking at my perfect jaw line," He jokes, as I elbow him in the gut.

"Ladies first," our escort Terrance bellows, digging around for a single slip. Even Griffin sombers next to me.

"Carmen Wilt," He chuckles, as a 14 year old girl clambers onto the stage.

"Good on ya, Darlin'" He smirks patting her back, as she stands stiffly, the blood draining from her tanned face.

"Thank god," Griffin breaths out, looking at his older twin sisters in the 16 year old area.

"Now for the gentlemen," Terrance smiles and I, tempted to grip Griffin's arm, but instead I cross my arms. The bell tower rings out announcing the hour, as Terrance fumbles with opening the small paper.

"Castor Tice," He calls, and I feel my arms drop into fists on my side without my permission. I feel my feet dragging my forward, in determined strides until I mount the stage. Don't pass out, don't pass out. Don't Castor, I chant.

"Ladies and Gentlemen the tributes of district 10!" I barely hear being yelled as I stare at griffin's pale face, and slightly open mouth, he knows as well as I do, going in from 10 is as good as being buried alive. I'm taken to a plush waiting room, that's fancier than anything I've ever seen. I've barely at down as a hysterical Griffin drags in his family.

Griffin wasn't just my best friend, but his Dad owned the farm I worked for, so I knew his siblings all pretty well. "DUDE," He screamed stumbling in his rush to get to me, "You- You- CAN'T! You're my wingman," He hollers as His sisters place a hand on mine, or his shoulders alike.

"This isn't fair," He whispers bitterly, His 2 older brothers sat in the corner. I may be an only child, But Griffin was the baby of his family, and they all hated to see him like this.

"Griffin," His sister warns sitting down leaning on my legs that dangled off the ground from the stool I sat on.

"Man this sucks," He muttered punching the wall. "They shouldn't be able to do this to us," He growled.

"We all think of you as a brother Castor," The girls smile at me with tears pricking at there identical eyes. I nodded not taking my eyes off Griffin's pacing form. His brothers were watching me with somber expression, before bouncing their eyes to Griffin now, and again.

"One minute," The peacekeepers voice echoed, sending Griffin to launch himself in an awkward half bro hug with me. "Look man, You gotta fight, and come back. The ladies can be all over me and the victor then," He joked but his voice cracked showing how tone he was.

"I will," I smirk, "Besides I trust you're sisters not to let your head get any bigger while I'm away," I shove him off me playfully at his sisters sending them the message I wanted. 'Take care of him'. They both sprung up kissing my cheek, and the peacekeeper walked in. "Time," He gruffly shoved them out, but not before Griffin screamed "Try Castor! You can always try!"

Next my Dad awkwardly came in and sat in silence next to me, before hugging me and saying Mom wouldn't have liked this anymore then he does now. So with the parting words of my loved ones still ingrained into my head I walked into the train to find Carmen trying to sleep, her head against the window, her eyes closed too tightly. I sigh watching the cows disappear from my view every mile we trek on, as Terrance chatters about capital delicacies, but all I'm thinking about is how I'm going to have to try.

District 1 Female: (Spark(le) Rendon) Age: (17 1/2) Reaping Day:

"Spark you up," My training mentor called, and I nod at her approaching form. Not only was I up, but I was ready to be lethal. I have trained my whole life to volunteer today so it was only natural to have the trainers act as a prep team for me today. Image is everything, everything after being able to have the skills needed that was.

My strawberry blonde hair, was a tint more orange then the usual expectation for our district. So instead of the usual curls most tributes had mine was cut in layers to make it easier to have volume. My grey eyes had smoky makeup brushed against them, and my lips were painted a dark blood red to black color. My white skin tight dress, had long sleeves, and the same color jewels as my lipstick boarded the edges.

"Gorgeous as usual," My mentor smirked as I gnashed my teeth playfully at her. "Now, now save biting out throats until you're in the arena," She cackled. I rolled my eyes and stood up ready to go. I have been in training since I was 5 years old. I only see my mother for about 3 hours a year when my mentors collect training money from her, I have no idea if I had any other family. The only reason you were told is if they also were training, and apparently none of mine was if I had any at all.

I was picked for my combat skills, I was short, built, and attractive. It didn't hurt that I was lethal with any sort of short throwing knifes either, but I could easily beat any other girls in the whole facility at hand to hand combat too. Making me the obvious choice for the hunger games.

"Sparkle look at you,"

"You're so beautiful,"

"That's gonna be me someday,"

I hear other younger girl tributes call as I passed them to get to the reaping. Everyone parted the seas as I walked, I was legendary, the best tribute we have had from in in decades my mentors praised, and I was ready to live up to their expectations.

I stood in the crowd with the other girls from my year as the reaping video played. There angry, and jealous glances always flickering to my cocky smirk, as my grey eyes smoldered any boys who dared look my way. I was going to win the hunger games, It was my job. I had too. The only other family I had was a brother who brought disgrace to my family, by dying in the final 3, 7 years ago. It was hard, he died, he had let the whole district down. My interviews were still broadcast across the capital, I was known to be a sister of someone who lost in the games.

The boy going in with me, wasn't as legendary as I would have liked, but burly, and cocky enough to seem that he could have been.

"Sparkle, looking hot," He mouthed to me, and I in turned glared at him, and mouthed "Spark."

I hated being called something as wimpy as Sparkle, maybe he was okay with his name. Who wouldn't be with a name like his. Fierce Pace was a strong name, and he had a built looked, that owned up to his name.

Sure his mug, could have had less of a hooked nose, less freckles across his face, and less width between his two eyes, but he was tough and that's what we needed. He wasn't bad looking either, his spiky blonde hair, had been dip dyed in a black, and he had black eyeliner ever so slightly under his eyes.

His muscles so big they practically, bust the tight white shirt he had under his black blazer. We we're both ready to go in. Both ready to bring our district honor, only I was the one coming out not him.

"Any Volunteers," the giggly Escort called for the female tribute, and ever so slowly I raised my hair in one fluid motion, my head held high like I was too good for all this.

"I volunteer," I smiled dazzlingly at the camera, walking up the stage steps and standing proudly chest out, at the crowd. The action was repeat far more eagerly by Fierce, and we excited to meet our loved ones that would never come. Instead our training mentors would come, and give us one last report on our skills, and our flaws to tell the game mentors, and a summary given about each other so we could eventually take each other out in the end.

I board the train holding Friece's arms as though he was a dance partner, as gracefully as if we have done this hundreds of times. In fact we have, at practice, image means everything remember?

When we board the train, we immediately break apart, sneering at each other, before he breaks first and smirks.

"Recaps so we can pick allies," He gestures for me to go first, and I sigh. He probably only wants me to go first so he can watch my butt in this dress, not that I'd blame him.

"I get the say on them as of now, my mock training score was higher," I forcefully remind him as I swiftly plant myself in front of the TV, let the pre hunger games show begin.


	2. Pre-Games: The Chariots, & The 1st Night

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm an over achiever with pumping this bad boy out. The thing is Y'all I need you to review and answer my poll by the time there in the arena to see who dies, and who lives! Who should get presents, what district they should ally with? Thanks so much! Virtual cookies (::)(::)(::)**

**D7 Male: Ash Lomax: Pre-Games: (Chariots)**

Hazel was a nervous mess, actually needing calming medication to settle down, and sleep for a while. I swore to myself I'd never get that bad. Never. I had to be strong in order to defeat the capital, I can't let the capital beat me. I couldn't ever, if I wanted to come back to Wren. I promised. Johnanna wasn't actually as much help as I thought. On the train she was cold, snarled at Hazel's crying from multiple times, and told me I wasn't built enough to make a difference anyway. I Stayed quiet the whole time, telling myself that punching her wouldn't bring me any well wishes in the arena.

"You're going to love you're stylelist, he makes the most gorgeous tree outfits," They chattered away striping my body of any hair, and painting me in makeup that makes me look just as I did with an air brush texture to it. "I mean dear you're camera ready enough, LOOK at that jaw line, but a touch here and there wouldn't hurt," One gushed.

"And making sure you never grow facial hair in the next 6 months, that's just gross for tributes here in the Capital," A male informed me pasting some mint paste that burned my skin.

My designer actually was just as annoying as them, chattering away like an idiot, as she painted my body with "human" glue and attached these bark pieces to me, before giving me a bullet proof shaped vest made out of "Real pine needles and oak leaves!" and an earthy toned green skinny jeans. My dark brown hair was side swept perfectly, like it was wind blown before she shoved me onto the chariot next to Hazel, who looked every bit the same as me, but in the same fabric as me but in a dress, and having a golden headband that stuck up like a small tree.

The whole crowd was cheering for two tributes named Fierce, and Spark. Spark blew kisses, and Fierce winked at girls who were hysterical at him. I notice one or two girls passing by us as usual and doing a double take.

"T-they like you," Hazles voice shook, as she tightly held onto the small bar they had to stable us if we lost our balance.

"I'm sure it's you too," I whisper lightly back and she shakes her head

"No. That's good though, it'll help me hide in the arena. I'm not noteworthy," she bitterly whispers.

I look ahead and freeze, hauntingly a little girl stood waving happily at the end of her chariot waving. She was in a little seafoam dress, that billowed out behind her, her golden hair sported a tiny golden netted grown, with purple star fish jewels. A matching gold netted belt, had a large purple starfish jewel on her side, over all she looked nothing like Wren. But suddenly she looked exactly like her, naive, innocent, and happy.

My side smirk faltered as I stared, she half hid behind a boy tribute who looked like he rather have anyone else standing there in the world. She looked back over her shoulder giggling lightly and smiled right at me. Hazel smiled back at her and sighed.

"Someone's gonna have to deal with killing little kid, and I hope it's not going to be us," She spit out, blushing like mad she had the thought of murder. But it's true, but I didn't want it to be. I found myself wanting to go home with the little thing and show her to Wren. Wren who was all smiles, and giggles too. That's never going to happen though, someone would kill her, and Hazel was right it shouldn't have to be one of us.

We started to arch back after a lesson about our sacrifice that sent the crowds near over excited riots, and made our way back through the darkness, to the lowest floor for tributes, When I really notice Spark.

She lived up to her name all right, down to the jeweled costume in white that make the lights throw yelling lights in your face if you took to long. She laughed, and blew another sickly sweet kiss, with her blood black to red blood lips. Suddenly she turned as winked at me quickly before baring her teeth at Hazel, making her jump out of her skins. Fierce laughed, and playfully punched Spark in the shoulder, with a little excess force if you ask me, but she did it back just as hard.

All at once the horses stopped, and a boy from 10... I think his name was Castor shocked me by snagging a sugar cube from the horses bin before walking to his mentors, chewing in thought.

"Not bad kid," Johanna elbowed me, "Got the ladies excited enough, to bad-" She mused to herself grumbling about strategies, and an axemen kid.

"I'm willing to fight you know, I need to get back, I assert myself to victor and she glares.

"Got somethin' back home? A girl," She guessed, as I blush sheepishly.

"Not really," I kick at some dirt that the horses dragged onto the polished Capitol floors.

"Yeah okay kid," She snickered and flashed her white teeth, "Let's talk allies-"

**D1 Female: Spark Rendon: Pre-Games: (Chariots) **

The crowd could not stop eating me up, they cheered my name, our stylus was absolutely a genius. We always get one of the top three, but this year we definitely had the best. She made us seem like gods drifting above everything, and everyone. Who dare even look at us? It was perfect. Friese being an idiot at always pretend to joke with me, I pretended to laugh, and then he flexed his muscles and some poor girl would swoon.

The only place people even bothered to look besides us seemed to be the other careers, and once or twice at the back few. Enough for me to note, not enough to draw away and cause concern.

Prioritize, image, skill, keep your head up, chin out, c'mon think Spark.

You. Can. Win.

You. Will. Win.

I look over at the disgusting drunks of the capital throwing diamonds, watching, flowers, anything they've got at us. Delicately I snatch a little paper bird kiss it, and send it as some drooling teens in the back. We had them eating out of the palms of our hands, really the capitol people are too easy.

The loud cheering died down and turned into a hiss as the president prepared for his speech. "Fierce, Fierce, Fierce," the hummed, "Spark, Spark, Spark," drone dragging it out a bit too long before the president spoke.

I looked again at my competition, 2 were built as usual, but their cocky stances seemed lost, and out of place, we would definitely rule the career pack. No one stuck out besides the older boy from 4 seemed to know what we was doing, with lazy winks at the ladies, and all that. Then the rest is garbage, a boy who looked slightly better than average might have been the reason to steal a few chances in 7, the girl who actually passed out on stage from 12, nothing to time worthy.

They all seemed like scared children, hiding it with faked half baked ideas on how to act when they got up on the stage to me when we watched the reapings. I wonder if they saw how ready I was, how cool and collected. They probably barely noticed, to scared fro themselves, to help themselves.

"-Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice," President Snow finishes and I nodded sweetly like I listened the whole time, as the chariot turned back.

The crowds are even rowdier, and more barbaric on the way back, causing me to laugh at the excitement of blood they only see split. We pull into the corrals of sorts and I notice a shaking figure. I look over to see the fine looking boy from 7 openly watching us, and his poor partner gripping the carriage bars still. Oh this was too fun, I wink at the boy parting my lips slightly so the catch attention, before growling at the girl.

She literally jumped, and almost flew out of the carriage, sending Fierce into a steady round of chuckles, slugging my shoulder.. Hard.

"Look at that some hard core wimps," he purred smirking.

I strike my fist against the most vulnerable part on his shoulder pretending to laugh, "It's a good thing you aren't one right then Fierce."

He cursed at me, never checking the spot even though we both knew it would bruise.

"My lil' Darlings did wonderful," The stylists pecked at our cheeks clapping happily.

"Did you ever doubt us," Fierce dramatically throws his arm over my shoulders smirking, as they worriedly shook there heads.

"Never," they promised.

"Course not, we're flawless," Fierce drawled out lazily, as I shook my head. Training with him, was the worst. Still even he had slightly redeemable qualities, like knowing how to make people squirm.

Some days, back when we were training of course, we'd both be in the same skill room. We'd have to do opposite sex tag team combat. Fierce, was almost always my partner, he almost lost top dog spot one year though, and I had to move on without him. The ouff new how to beat someone until the we're bloody too. So I guess there _was _more than one reason to have him on my side in the beginning.

"I'm hungry," I announced to them, to get them to stop peppering us with meaningless complaints. Technically I would never announce a weakness like hunger, but they annoyed me. There clipped capital accents sounded wrong, like half done inner city 1 accents to me. To nasally, too high pitched, and I wanted them to stop.

"Of course follow your escort, " One babbled nodding his head. I snickered, we knew what to do. We trained our whole lives for this. I've waited exactly for moments like this, my whole life. I knew what to do.

**Mentor: Finnick: Pre-Games: (In Flat) **

12 years should not be allowed in the games, no one should... but they- they don't even have a chance. They've only ever had 14 year olds and up win the games. You think that might be an eye opener. Like, oh 13 year olds don't win, maybe 12 year olds shouldn't go... But no, not in the Capital.

I hated when there were any in the games let alone my own little one. I avoided the tributes like the plague, trying to come up with anything I could do to save her. This was so bad, so very bad, I didn't know how to get someone who wasn't a fighter out of the arena. Why oh why, didn't her sister just volunteer for her anyway. I was sitting on my bed just after the chariots, when I heard a little knocking at the door.

"It's open," I sighed, It was probably the escort no one actually knew why we had, a mentor, the stylist, what the heck do we need a bumbling capital idiot for?

"Finn," A tiny voice whispers, as I felt the bed weight shift ever so slightly. I feel myself tightening all my muscles, like a blow was about to come, I wasn't ready for.

"Finn, are you angry with me for being reaped," the little girl looks over at me and I freeze. I could have been her father we looked so alike, she was tanned, her golden hair was wavy and to her shoulders, her eyes were as wide as a doe, and the same light swimming green that mine were.

"Cause now you might not get a victor," She whimpered and her eyes swam with unshed tears. I move over next to her and sigh "I'm not mad at _you. _You didn't want to be reaped either." Suddenly the tears start to flow from her eyes.

"Finn, no one thinks I can win, b-but everyone needs me to try to bring honor, and I'm scared," She whispers leaning into my side, like I've known her forever, and maybe In another world I would have. She had the same light line of freckles Annie had, and the same sweet small voice. I wrapped my arms around her placing her in my lap.

I originally always wanted to be a Dad, but going into the games made me realize no kid should be brought into a world like this. She was smaller than the average 12 year old not tipping the scale at 60 pounds soaking wet. I always thought If I had a kid, Annie would want a boy like me, but I would want a daughter like her.

"M-m-m-y Dad never liked me c-cause I wouldn't go into training, even if they wanted me. I didn't want to die- I saw all those other kids-" Her voice faded in and out as she sniffed. "Mom said that I shouldn't have to, and for a long time they fought, but they c-couldn't force me," She stopped talking burying her face in my chest. I held her tight to me, she shouldn't have to go through all this, she- she wasn't yours Finnick, I warn myself. Don't get attached, but I felt like it was to late not to. Her small hand rested farther up my chest, and I covered it with my own.

"You've already made people proud, not crying in front of the cameras is more than a lot of 14 year olds Aril, you're tough," I smile and she looks at me serious for a minute, "Will you help me, really help me," She looks up from under her lashes and I laugh. 

"How could I say no," I smirk, and she pushes on my chest giggling adorably. Suddenly a loud knocking was at the door, "Time to eat! Hurry, hurry, hurry," The escort crows, her high heels click-clacking down the hallway. 

"Come on sweetie, why don't we go do what the weirdo wants," I poke her in the side and she makes her eyes cold, pouting. "Everybody is somebody else's weirdo Finnick," She wisely narrows her eyes, and I laugh at her stern face, but with each laugh I find myself liking her more, and more and that can't happen, because no one ever actually wins the games, not even the kids who come out.

Even sweet little girls.

**D10 Male: ****Castor Tice****: Pre-Games (In Flat) **

The chariots seemed to go as expected, long, the citizens savage, and everyone was focused immediately on a career treasure. By the time they hauled our butts in front of the drooling citizens we were less than par, and quite frankly a boar to them. I doubt even Griffin who frankly has the worst fashion sense in the world for a 'player' would find anything redeemable from the fuzzy cow leather vest, and metallic hoof shoes, and cow bell necklace. I could almost hear his "Duuuuuuude, that's so wrong," from his TV set all the day back in 10.

Carmen didn't really help with anything, she just seemed so done with everything. With the capitol, with the people, with anyone expecting her to fight, or talk, or do anything. She'd just roll her eyes and send you this 'really?' look. I couldn't even tell if she was faking it, but it really didn't seem like it. She just seemed ready to fight, but also done with trying to at the same time, it was just plain weird.

"So-" I started shoveling extremely good rose petal soup into my mouth by the buckets full.

"What's the plan," I asked our mentor Jackson was staring angrily at his fork.

He moves his fork off the napkin and takes a small bite of some sorft of fish, before he lectures, "Tomorrow we have training, try not to screw up, try to find a skill you're good at. Don't work at any station more than an hour, if you're good less than that, you don't need attention fro careers."

I nod, as Carmen flips her hair back "Yeah, fine." Carmen immediately camps herself on the couch while everyone else scurries about for bed.

"You planning on sleeping," I joke sliding in ne to her as she sighs.

"No. The nightmares come if you close your eyes," She whispers and I really look at her. The bags that were there already looked unhealthy, she seemed exhausted, and small. Like she had to pretend not to care, because in reality she cared for more than she'd like. I find myself silently agreeing with her as she clicks through channels so fast my eyes can't keep up.

I knew I won't sleep anymore out here then I would If I tried back in the room, but It felt like I was intruding on her own little mental pity party battle. 

"I'm calling it quits," I mutter.

"You do that," she calls as her leg bounces in rhythm to the channels.

When I do sleep it's not a dreamless one like I would hope. The bed is too fluffy and artificial for my liking so it too follows me, as I wake up from it in a desert Arena. I fight with the blankets that try to strangle me as a little girl from 4 points and laughs off of her spot on Fierce's back. 'Help!' I scream and Carmen rolls her eyes. 'This is why I don't sleep,' she spits at me. 'Huh' I choke as the blankets tie me down so I stop squirming. The rest of the outer lying tributes find themselves in the same position as I watch each of them die from it. 'You're dreaming,' Carmen growls and suddenly I wake up.

Gasping for breath, I clutch at my heart, My brow sweaty. That wasn't real you're okay Castor, think of the farm or something. "Yeah or something," I mutter allowed, and go out to the main room to see Carmen still cannel clicking.

"Couldn't sleep," she smirks, and I shrug plopping back down next to her.

"You need to talk about it," She sighs never taking her eyes off the rainbow blur, the cup in front of her full of some super sugary buzz inducing kids drink.

"It's fine I'm used to not talking," I mutter and she snorts.

"Yeah cause Griffin does it all, I mean EVERY girl is super annoyed by him, but secretly kind of wishes he'd care enough to annoy her too," She grumbles and I find myself laughing.

"Sound like you know the feeling," I wiggle my eyebrows creepily like he does, and she breaks character smirks over at me before turning back to the TV. I miss a lot of his creepy personality, or as he called it "flirty" how the girls would run away, or to us depending on the day. At times he really did feel like a twin brother. You're crazy twin brother who you want no relation to sometimes, but a brother all the same.

"Everyone wants to be liked Castor, everyone," She grimly explains, her expression somber, as she sips from the blue juice in front of her. "Everyone," She whispers, and that's what I hear echoing in my head, even as I start to drift off and dream again.


	3. Pre-Games: Training, & Skills

**A/N: Hey guys, and we're back with chapter 3! I made this little bad boy to help you keep everybody straight.. lord knows it's helped me ^_^ Anyway, reviews, and votes on the poll that's up are super important as we get closer to the games. Any input on who you would want to sponsor, or like will help the characters in the arena! The early it happens the more it's worth to the characters help get's more expensive later on! Cookies for my lovely readers! (::)(::)(::)**

**Skills: **

**Spark: Small knives, swords, hand to hand combat, daggers, sex appeal, has limited knowledge with most any other weapon. **

**Aril: Sponsors, knots, quick, qu****iet, tiny, kid trident. **

**Castor: Knowledge of survival skills, quick, quiet, instinct.**

**Ash: Axe, hand to hand combat, knowledge in forest setting, good looking, climbing. **

**Mentor: Johanna: Pre-Games: (Mentor Floor) **

While the kids go play at skills, it's our job to talk to the capital bilbos, and work our magic. Still Captial people are only allowed on the floor an hour into the training giving time for our mentor style collaborations to work, and I needed allies.

Immediately I walk to Finnick, not only does his tribute look promising, but he owes me. Besides I less openly despise him publically on a daily basis anyway. "Finnick," I cheer walking over to where he was furiously typing things into our mentor databases.

"Johana, what do I owe the pleasure," he purrs stopping. "You're boy Loki, does he have a plan for allies yet," I cut straight to the point.

Finnick runs his hands through his hair aggressively "Yeah, he wants to join the career pack, he and the person he wanted to volunteer with had a plan already," He cussed. We both knew that tribute planes never end well.

"Make him see the light! Haijlauh or whatever!" I growl angrily "My boy needs allies Ash can do it, he's a fighter this year," I pushed his chair aways from that frickin' touch screen table. "Everyone is pretty lethal this year Johnna, there's more foul play," Finnick sighed and tried to push past my arm. I knew that! He KNOWS I know that, but I can tell Ash will fight, he'll fight for his girls back home. Love's weird, Finnick and I would know more then anyone.

"He's a fighter," I repeat steamy, "Stop telling me things I know."

"Stop asking. I can't promise you my tribute against his 'plan' if he doesn't make it in. We'll talk." He bargained some of his charm oozing back in after he let some of his anger go. I grumble and sit next to him anyway, there were hardly any tributes to look at this year it seemed like everyone has already written each other off as dead, and so had the majority of mentors to tributes.

"Do you think you're has a chance Finnick," I ask suddenly, and Finnick looks at me liking at his lip from habit of seduction.

"They always have a chance, until you, or they stop trying. And I'm busting my butt on these two so they better," He smirked tapping on a new board. Two? Surely Finnick doesn't think the tiny little thing will continue living. She looked like- I don't even know, a tiny bird who lost her wings or something. She won't-

"What are you planning Finnick-" I start and his look stops me.

"I don't know," He whispers thoughtfully. "I'm working with hope," He sighs as I move on.

I really didn't know what we were up against, but Hazel just seemed like a nervous breakdown away from an insane asylum already, BEFORE the arena. She's not coming out sane, or alive. So that left me with Ash, he was willing and ready, and I knew Mr. charmer himself would do better with people. Sponsor will eat up his face once he gets an interview on him, just who to go with?

What could he do anyway, I mean he was built, but not insanely like Fierce. He showed me already he had to be handy with his axe, but to count on that alone.. You'd be insane. I think back to all the things I drilled him with after dinner.

*flashback*

"Why fight if you have no skill set," I hiss at him. 

"I have skill set," he growls stabbing his knife expertly at the wall, but it doesn't stick. Definitely a sign from his confidence, and aim that he's used to an axe.

"I'm going to return my baby sister Wren- She- she needs me, they use her for tesserae trade," he growls. "And Henna- she wants me to return, I couldn't leave her, not without-" He rants but I cut him off. 

"Look I get it, you have reason. Let's hope it's enough of one, once you're put in that cluster f," I snort shoving him off to bed.

*end of flashback*

We didn't talk much, but I can tell in the way he stands he's quick witted, like he's ready to make a decision. It's just want decisions to help him make, how can I get this boy home. Hear that Ash, I'm not writing you off yet. Neither of us have given up, and I think that just upped your chances by 10 fold.

**D1 female: Spark: Pre-Games: (Training Center) **

Of course being one, we were the first ones there. The kids cowering in group by group to stand for institution. The instructor talking crap about survival to the cowering children, that WON'T be in the career pack.

"In a few days, twenty three of you will be dead, one of you will be alive. Who that is tells us how well you pay attention, and how well you can execute actions over the next four days. Rules: First; no fighting with the other tributes, you'll have plenty of time for that at the arena. Next; There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is don't ignore the survival skills..." she blabbers on and I smirk at a shaking tribute from 9. "You may start," She nods as Fierce and I saunter of the the practice dummies.

I grab my knives throwing them dead center every time was to easy, target after target, faster and faster until I worked up a light gleam of sweat. Smirking at the disembodied figurines on the floor, I go to swords, I had perfect slashes as lines, it wasn't hard on stilled creatures.

Moving was a bit harder for me, and swords, but I wield one better than 80% of the tributes from my district know the less. The majority largely held kids attempting to pick up something far too heavy for them to throw, and one or two rave ones throwing spears. I walk to the water cooler and let the crisp fresh liquid drain down my throat as I re do my perfect french braid.

I'm tempted to mention how my brother would have been doing the exact same thing here just a few years back, but I don't. Rule number one of the games, don't bring back dishonor, or lack of skill set you share a connection too.

"District four," Fierce whispers pointing.

District four seemed pretty deadly, while far leaner than Friece he towered over him by a 1/2 foot almost. Wielding a trident with career district like skill he chopped up bodies, with anger, and precision. I nod looking at him.

"Keep surveillance, 2's male of course too, female may be a pass if she keeps missing with that sword," I fervently add turning back to the dubie range, and use a capitol opponent for swords play. I mindlessly beat beat of the idiots without problems, and then take on two or three attackers at once, but that's as intense as they'll let me , that I will put their employees at risk. I go in line at the agility climbing coarse behind the little thing from district 4... this would be to easy.

"Hey there honey," I let my surgaryist one fill my voice as I bend down to her height.

"I'm Spark," I wink waiting for her to cower back, but she doesn't miss a beat. Instead she smiles shyly, and obediently answers me as If had asked her "I'm Aril." Though her wide eyes gave away her nervous childlike fear.

Everything about her screams 'helpless target' to me. She was dripping with innocence, and I sighed. She obviously wasn't going to play an entertaining game of cat and mouse right now, she must enjoy climbing or something, but she seemed a bit bold to answer.

I pick at my nails while waiting for her to finish, boredom sinking in, as she took longer at the course than most to any career would have. I flipped effortlessly off the climbing net to save time, and go to the people battle over large mats, you dodge, or use force to take them down. I easily maneuver away from the first and use the second to knock them both out at the same time. When everyone finishes they call lunch.

When we are walking to lunch I realize how much this training all felt like a giant act, our skill trainers would be on our back for only working this hard. This wasn't about practise though, we had enough practise at 17, and 18 years old... This was about showing off, acting out, the scare tactic. Live to impress, act to strike fear, and speak to charm. Image is everything.

Finally we arrive and I start pulling some tables together and gesture with one finger for D1 to join us. I flip my strawberry blonde braid to rest in front of my shoulder as I wait on Fierce to bring back food.

"The pack is easily formed with or without you," I warn the girl as she starts to dive into some blue pudding. "I mean everyone seemed skilled, but.. you-" I sneered a bit. "Pick it up. We need everyone to look good. If you don't get a 9 on your score you're out" I warn knowing they'll give her a 7/8 for being a career and a 9/10 for being talented. She nods angrily pouting and elbowing her partner who just smiles at me.

"I'm back, I trust we all talked," Fierce's laugh booms around the mostly quiet room, as he takes in District ones, smile, and scowl.

"We did have a nice chat," I purr, picking at one of the sandwiches Fierce set in front of me.

Lunch lasted about as long as expected with Non-trained children inter mixed with fear. So naturally I was long past ready when we could go back and train. Everyone seemed bolder now, dancing near career tributes to get to the archery range, use an axe, and a few other exceptions. I noticed 7 lifted pretty heavy weights, but he couldn't apparently last long because he left a few minutes later, and I even out performed him.

Overall nothing shocked me in training, the careers were prepared, D4 may join us tomorrow if he if his trient, time on the agility course, and weight lifting would reflect anything on his training score.. we'd just have to wait and see, now won't we.

**D4 Female: Aril: Pre-Games: (Training Center) **

Our Escort hurried about shoving Loki around, as Finnick carried me on his back to the elevator.

"Try to learn something Squirt," He ruffled my hair setting me down, as I giggled. 

"I may already know something," I wink at him trying to seem sneaking, which makes Loki roll his eyes, and press the button to shoot us to the training level.

It's true though because the training center in four was like a school Ambra would have to come home and practise, a few times I've taken out her little kid training sizes tridents. They were much smaller, and less weight, but I was used to their weight, and that's better then some kids I suppose.

I of course knew how to tie knots, well too. Everyone in four had to know how to make knots for their job. I mean it was about as commonly known as the fact D12 mines for coal. I get to the training center, to find we were one of the last ones to arrive.

"Welcome tributes of District four," A capitol worker nodded as we joined the circle. Finally group by group the last 3, arrive and the woman reads off instructions. 

"In a few days, twenty three of you will be dead, one of you will be alive. Who that is tells us how well you pay attention, and how well you can execute actions over the next four days. Rules: First; no fighting with the other tributes-" She begins, and I try to pay as close attention as possible, noting the ways most die, and vowing to go to stations that will help those skills.

She finishes as the groups break off "Loki are you-" I spin around to find him trailing off on his own, coldly ignoring me. Fine, I'll go to the poisonous plants. I don't need him... I can find another ally on my own. Finnick said he wouldn't want to help me, much. I bite my lip noticing that I'm the last in the circle as I glide to the table.

"Hello," I smile at the instructor behind the counter. I noticed the man had greying hair, and a bright neon green eyes, a capital trend this year.

"Hello," I tried again.

Next thing I knew the man was splashing water from his bucket at me, and dropping to the floor, cursing loudly.

"HOLY BUCKETS," He screamed, making a few curious tributes look over, and shrug him off. "You scared me. Don't sneak up on people like that," He sighed, and I smiles. I wasn't even trying to. Being quiet was a skill learned from being the 2nd favorite child. Ambra always was in everyone's eyes. She was going to bring fortune, and honor, she was going to be a star, while I was supposed to be her adorable shadow. Taught in school how to play crowds to earn sponsors during family interviews.

Great so, knots, being quiet, charm, and mediocre speed. Not to mention my pre trident mock exercise use! Oh boy I can already smell winner of the game, it's not like I'd ever have to confront someone! noting my poor sarcastic sense of humor I mentally sigh. The station was simple enough, and I did fairly well before moving on to tridents.

I was so excited to see they had the 10 year old and under training ones, I almost jumped up and down. I picked up the tiniest bronze one, and slashed at a few of the dummies, before missing a target or two, and get my last few to stick fairly well. Happy with my work I got in line for agility.

I was 9 back when I turned to see Loki, using full one's like an extension of his arm. Slaying hundreds of dummies, and hitting every mark, but one dead center. My success seemed like childs play, as his muscles tensed, flexing them. All it took was him, or any career to jump me, and I was good as dead.

Confrontation wasn't everything, they all die without knowing stuff about food, water, and fires, I reminded myself smiling. I was almost up, and agility was something I was pretty good at, being fast was a praised thing in District 4, trainee or not. I was finally 1 away when I saw someone slip into line behind me.

"Hey there honey," A voice cooes, as I spin to face a girl tribute. I recognised her immediately as the District one female, Spark, she bent down so close If I'd lean forwards we'd almost be nose to nose.

"I'm Spark," She smiles too brightly, her left eye dropping into a wink. My first instinct is to flint over to some other station, and wait it out until she leaves, but I know what i should do. Play her game, kill with kindness, so instead I smile.

"I'm Aril," I reply, and try not to let my bouncing leg give away a sign on how badly I want to run away.

I don't like people who can pretend so easily, people like her, and Finnick. It shows how much pain they've been put through to get to where they are. How lost they are inside, and I don't like it. We should all just get to be us, and everything about Spark screams lethal.

I shrug back around, and slip into the coarse, it's harder than I expected, and I get additional time, for not "Killing" the false accounts, but rather avoiding them. Overall my score was better than the previous 12 year old averages, and I manage to make it to lunch. As I dig, at some noodle-y soup concoction, I sit nervously at the edge of my seat. I didn't want to be noticed by people like Spark, I don't want to be in her book, or radar or whatever. I wish Ambra was here, she could fight back with just as much sass, and glamor as Spark.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and breath out. If it was one thing I knew it was the hours upon hours, of learning how to play Spark's game. The Interviewers game. Finnick's game. I knew how to fake it, I just wish I didn't have too, I just wish I could escape without being what they want me to be. So when I open my eyes again, I have my smile back on my face, to the capitol I was a 12 year old. Inside I was a 12 year old willing to fight, if only because I still have things worth living for.

**D10 Male: Castor: Pre-Games: (After Training Day 1) **

Too much was going on at once, the agility training was by far the easiest for me, the scores are kept private, but I had a feeling I outranked many of the careers, my only slight build had an upper hand over people like 1, 2, and surprisingly the bulkier males of 4, and 7.

I lifted a bit, before realizing that no matter the about of 'bulking up' I did, it really wouldn't help me much in a career setting. So I meandered through our options until I noticed survival skills. It was to easy, setting a fire was a basic skill back home while we tended the herd. Though without, matches, or flint it was much harder. It took me a good hour until I felt like I could move on.

The careers dominated the whole real 'weapon worthy' area, but somewhere along the way people got braver, and I tired by hand at knives. Maybe one of the hunder I threw seemed to have a great stick, so I'm hoping it'll be particularly challenging year with little variety in weapons. Swords were less awkward in my hand, then a bow, but I seemed to barely do better than a cowering 14 year old from 6. Knives seemed to be the lesser of the few evils in my pathetic case.

Some kid's seemed to openly vent about their troubles to each other, which shocked me more then other people really. I mean, my Dad being so quiet kept me that way. I was kind of taught around the aspect of children having the first 2 years of their life being taught about walking and talking. Then having to spend the next 16 years being told to sit down and shut-up.

I kept my skill building to a few minutes in each station, and longer with the ones I struggled at, If I had other tributes watching me, the least I can do is be entertaining for them. After all there was no need to stay in one place for so long. I attempted many things I probably never would in D10, but I found on the opposite end farm life helped me regnis safe plants, and water too. I could make it a poison, or save myself from basic knowledge in little ol' 10.

Finally we were allowed to go back to our flats, plainly I was sore, tired, and sick of the capital nuts chattering around the table. Carmen smirked as she saw my annoyed gaze stare at the dwindling food on everyone's plates, and people quite literally sat about the table just to chat more.

"See if we just could get a better styist we could afford some gel, or SOMETHING, for that boys hair! I mean look at it, the black mop isn't any better then you're bed head," our escort sighed. 

"Well excuse me if I wanted the focal point of his makeup to be his cocoa butter brown eyes," our stylist fought back.

"That doesn't mean you can leave the rest of him looking like a wild beast," she snapped.

"His hair doesn't work with us! It fights back," an assistant plugged in near tears at the sight of my hair.

I frown, thinking about how Griffin would be all up in this conversation, making them laugh, loosening the tension, and seeming warm. I'm sure I looked sullen, and just about as ready to go to bed, as I felt. I of course had enough sass in me to cover for Griffin on days he wasn't up to par- but believe me, after you see your future possible murders skills, you're taken down a peg too.

"You two better be getting off to bed," Our mentor slurred, frankly I'm not sure if he was high, or wasted at this point. Either way, I wasn't going to argue, I was exhausted.

"Lack of sleep does things to people," He mumbled, mushed mouthed, as the other mentor openly glared at him disapprovingly. It was almost an immediate reaction for both of us tributes, to slug off and walk down the hall.

"You're actually sleeping," I mock Carmen as we walk.

"No, but he'll check on us. After all why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet? Because they CAN check up on it- so he will check on us too," she swore and kept to my sluggish pace.

"Everything about this sucks," She continued when we finally reached our doors I let my lips tug up in a smile.

"Just remember...if the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off," I tease.

"I can't believe you went there," she groans unhappily and rolls her eyes dramatically slow at me. "We are going to die, and that is what you come up with."

"I went there, and I'm not taking it back," I grin closing my door.

As I lay in bed I toss, and turn as usual, thinking about my Dad at home, Griffin, and my almost extended family of his, the nightmares that plague my sleep, and- Suddenly I hear movement, and my door flies open.

"Told ya, the boy's asleep," Our mentors voice growls slamming the door with excess force.

There are three kinds of people in this world- The ones who learn by listening. The ones who learn by observation. And the rest of them who have to touch the fire to learn it's hot. Tonight I listened, and It once again paid off. To keep quiet, and learn from the knowledge of others. Who knows maybe it'll be a flaw I can exploit, and win. I'm not ready to give up like Carmen, I'm going to keep listening, until my last breath.


End file.
